


The Suitor

by greygerbil



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Background Relationships, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 11:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14670129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Mila finds a sword in a basketful of flowers in the middle of her chambers. There is no message attached to the generous gift, but Lilia thinks it must be from a suitor. Thus begins Mila's search for her generous admirer.





	The Suitor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for YoI Royalty Week, Day 3: Tokens of Favour: A flower, dropped at an event. A present, delivered to the doorstep. Messages - of all mediums - connecting us even when we aren’t together.

When Mila opened the door to her chambers, the sweet scent hit her before she saw the mass of pink, delicate flowers spilling out of a wicker basket on the floor in the middle of the room. She stopped for a moment, simply staring at the arrangement in confusion. She hadn’t asked the servants to bring any flowers and if she had, she would have demanded roses or something else regal, probably to impress a guest. Not that these weren’t pretty in their own right, but what were they doing here?

She stepped forward to inspect the flowers. Myriads of what she recognised as mallow bindweeds were piled up on top of each other and only after a moment did she notice that between the trumpet-like blossoms, twining stems and curled leaves glinted patches of silver.

With a flick of her hand, Mila brushed aside the flowers to unearth a polished blade underneath. As she lifted it, she found that it was a bastard sword of just the type she liked to use, long and heavy enough to hurt hard on impact, but not so much so that she would have to put away her shield and take the grip with both hands. The cross-guard was decorated with graceful patterns of intertwining lines and a light pink gemstone to match the blossoms had been worked into the pommel. However, the shape of the hilt and carefully balanced weight proved the sword was still obviously designed with combat, not ceremonial flourishes in mind, as a few practiced swings in the air proved to her.

After a moment’s thought, Mila took the sword and stabbed down into the basket, just in case this strangely generous gift had come together with a snake or some other instrument of theatrical assassination. However, she just sliced through greenery with the sharp edge of the blade.

Satisfied she was probably not going to die, Mila started digging through the flowers in search of a message instead. A gift like this had to have choice words, a name, a meeting point attached to it, didn’t it? Yet, Mila only came up with handfuls of leaves and blossoms. She turned back to the sword and narrowed her eyes at the cross-guard again, but could make out nothing in the patterns there, either.

Perplexed, Mila placed the sword down on her desk. Now this was a mystery! Who even got into her chambers? The servants, for starters. They must have taken the basket from someone. She had to track them down right now! However, as Mila turned, she found the doorway blocked by Lilia, whose stern face and perfectly straightened layers of silk and velvet may as well have been a wall.

“Now what’s this?” she asked, with all implications of illicit affairs and other matters much unbecoming of a young lady of standing, as she would put it, weighing heavily in every word.

“I don’t know,” Mila was quick to assure, raising her hands. “I found it coming in. This was hidden under all the flowers.” She lifted up the sword. “Who do you think might have sent it? Victor, perhaps?”

She was a knight of the Crownsguard, so it made sense for him to gift her a weapon.

“The silly grandness of this gesture would certainly befit our king, but why would he sneak into your chambers when you meet him every day?” Lilia asked, stepping forward to lay the tip of her forefinger against the flat site of the blade and push it up into the light falling through the window for inspection. “This is the kind of longsword you use, isn’t it?”

Mila nodded.

“Well, someone was obviously paying close attention to you. You may have a suitor.”

It wouldn’t be the first time, but Mila could definitely say that no one else showing interest in her had ever opened with gifting her a sword specifically made to fit her tastes. That was one hell of an argument in his favour!

“I’m going to ask the servants,” she said, smiling broadly as she laid the sword aside again.

“Wipe that grin off your face before you do,” Lilia said, one eyebrow raised. “It wouldn’t do to have you quite so excited about this much secrecy. You are...”

“... a young lady of standing, yes,” Mila finished, amused, as she hurried through the door.

-

However, the servants proved to be unhelpful. None of them had taken any gifts and brought them into her room; they hadn’t even known anyone had been in her chambers after her bed had been made and the shelves dusted that morning. Now Mila had to consider that her suitor was either a very clever thief – even if he employed his talents in reverse – or that he had free roam of the royal castle. The second option seemed a bit more likely so that was where she decided to start the investigation.

There were a few obvious suspects to be crossed off the list. King Victor wasn’t going to be courting anyone anytime soon, hopefully, or his husband Yuuri might be reasonably furious at him; the same was true in reverse. Luckily, neither man was likely to stray from the path of faithfulness, judging by the way they gazed at each other at every available opportunity. Then there was Georgi, a Duke’s son who had grown up at court much like Mila. He was out with two strikes; first, he was hilariously bad at keeping his affections hidden and usually didn’t even want to, so considering how much they talked, she’d have noticed immediately if he carried a torch for her. Secondly, he was all but betrothed to Michele Crispino, a Southern lord who had moved up to Victor’s kingdom to rule over a duchy he owned by married relation together with his twin sister, Sara, a good friend of Mila’s. A knight of the old guard, he liked to constantly hover around Georgi – especially now that Sara had told him in no uncertain terms she didn’t need a bodyguard at every ball and festivity. If Georgi wanted to cheat on him, Mila honestly didn’t think he’d have enough time to himself to do so. Finally, Lord Yuri, aside from being basically a younger brother to her in all but blood, had been visiting at the court of Prince Otabek for a month now, so he certainly hadn’t been sneaking into her chambers unless he had been on horseback all night.

 _So who does that leave?_ Mila thought to herself.

-

The first man fell by the wayside by reasons of absence, too, though Mila felt like that was kind of underselling it. She stared at his retainer, a middle-aged man whose weary expression said he may have had a few less grey hairs if it weren’t for his charge.

“Excuse me, you say Sir Emil is hunting dragons in the Spearpeak Mountains?”

It wasn’t the first time Sir Emil had undertaken some crazy quest for pretty much no reason but his own entertainment, but this was pushing it even for him.

“Yes,” the retainer said with a deep sigh. “Be sure that I have explained to him _in detail_ that this is not a good idea.”

“Should we send a few knights after him to make sure he’s alright?”

Miraculously, Sir Emil had always made it out alive so far, but Mila would have felt bad if she didn’t at least offer.

“If I haven’t heard from him in in a few days, I would greatly appreciate it,” Sir Emil’s retainer said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

-

Lord Phichit was not from around these parts, but with how often he came to visit Yuuri, he might as well be at this point. Mila and him had always gotten along and even danced at a few balls because they were usually among the last ones standing when the night was getting long. She wouldn’t have thought to ask for his hand, but he was certainly one of the more agreeable choices.

When she saw him and Lord Seung-Gil on a walk through the castle gardens, she counted herself lucky. Lord Seung-Gil was pretty curt, especially with women, and hunting him down could have been tiresome. That didn’t seem to make him a likely candidate, but then again, if anyone was going to dump a well-thought-out gift like the one she had received into someone’s room without so much of a comment, it was probably Lord Seung-Gil.

Mila was still deciding which one of them to approach first when, under the shade of an old oak tree, Lord Phichit leaned over and pressed a kiss on Lord Seung-Gil’s lips.

Alright, so that was two answers in one.

-

As soon as Mila had walked into Sir Chris’ favourite tavern and saw him almost falling into the plunging neckline of the barmaid, she considered walking out again. She was obviously running out of ideas if she thought that Sir Chris of all people was looking to get settled.

Just as she put her hand on the door again, Sir Chris sat up and turned to her, giving her a charming smile and a wave.

“Fancy meeting you here, Lady Mila. Up for a beer?”

Now that Mila thought about it – yes, she was. Also, the barmaid was a pretty impressive sight and she could certainly use a pick-me-up after the last days of fruitless searching she had had.

“Count me in,” she said, as she fell into a chair at Chris’ table.

-

“You don’t seem to enjoy the dancing.”

Mila raised her head and blinked, setting her eyes once more on what was actually in front of her. She had been so deep in thought she hadn’t even noticed that way down at the base of the castle walls on the meadow, a dozen children had gathered to twirl in a circle.

“I’m just trying to figure something out,” she said, turning to Georgi, who was leaning on the ramparts next to her.

“What would that be?”

Mila glanced at him. She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone before she had actually found her suitor, since the mysterious stranger might not want to make his affections public yet. It was just Georgi, though, who was not much of a gossip to begin with and always took matters of the heart slightly too serious, so he would probably treat the information with as much caution as he did the secrets entrusted to him in his role as royal advisor.

“I got a gift,” Mila said. “Lady Lilia says it might be from a suitor, but I don’t know who it is.”

“That could prove difficult. You have many of those,” Georgi pointed out.

“Yes, but most aren’t so dedicated that they would sneak it past the servants into my room,” Mila said, shaking her head. “It wasn’t just a nice ring or something, either. He stuck a longsword into a basket full of flowers!”

Georgi looked smitten, as Mila had expected he might.

“What a romantic gesture! Beautiful, yet honouring your talent as a knight...”

“I agree, it’s great. It’d be even better if the guy had left me a way to thank him, though.”

“You don’t know it was a man,” Georgi said.

“Well... that’s true.” Not that Mila was opposed to the other option, either; it didn’t seem likely, though. “Almost all the people who run around freely in Victor’s castle are lords, though, aren’t they? Most of the ladies who want to stay in town live at Lady Lilia’s place.”

Since she was part of the Crownsguard, Mila was obviously an exception.

Georgi made a humming noise as he let his gaze sweep over the playing children again.

“What kind of flowers were they?” he asked.

Mila raised a brow.

“Does that matter?”

“Of course it does!” Georgi said, looking slightly dismayed. “Not everyone would send you the same kinds of flowers.”

“But they probably just picked something that they thought looked nice, right?” Mila cocked her head. “They were mallow bindweeds, anyway. They’re still fresh even now. I think an alchemist may have treated them.”

Eyes widening in surprise, Georgi pushed off the ramparts.

“Those are Michele’s favourite flowers.”

Mila stared back at him. “No way. Michele wouldn’t go behind your back like that.”

“I hope not,” Georgi said, voice slightly weakened. His last betrothal to one Lady Anya had ended in a lot of tears when she had unceremoniously dropped him for another man. That wound was obviously still fresh enough to hurt. However, Georgi looked up from his feet suddenly, his frown smoothing a little once more. “He did say they were his favourite flowers because they grew in the courtyard of the castle where he _and his sister_ spent their childhood...”

Now it was Mila’s turn to fall silent. Sara? Just yesterday, they had been out for a ride. They had fenced in the training yard the day before. But it was true that she spent most of her time at court and had become just as much of a fixture as any of Victor’s favourite lords.

“Why wouldn’t she say anything, though?” she asked herself.

“Maybe she was waiting for you to figure it out?” Georgi guessed.

Mila slid off the ramparts where she had perched.

“She’s usually a lot more direct than that. But – I’m going to ask her.”

“Good luck,” Georgi said with a warm smile.

Mila, feeling her heart beat in her throat, thought that she might need it.

-

When Mila threw the door open after a brief knock, Sara looked up from the book on her knees. She was sitting in a deep armchair, draped in a dark blue dress that looked like the night sky to the sunset purple of her eyes.

“Mila,” she said, and smiled. “What’s going on?”

Mila kicked the door shut behind her.

“I have a question. Last Sunday, I got a gift. A sword and flowers.”

The way Sara stiffened slightly, her back drawing straight as she closed the book, told Mila that, impossibly, she was on the right track.

“Yes?” Sara said.

“Did you put them there?”

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it was not the look of confusion that crossed Sara’s face.

“Well... didn’t you read the letter?” she asked.

“What letter?”

Sara stared at her for a moment and then jumped to her feet, hurrying to the heavy, dark wooden desk in the corner of the room. After tearing open a drawer, she let out a cry of dismay. As Mila followed her, she saw Sara pull out an envelope.

“Oh my God, I spent so long into the night writing it that I forgot to put it into the basket.”

Mila gaped.

“Why didn’t you say anything?! You knew I must have found the gift, I basically stumbled over it when I opened my door.”

“I thought you were politely refusing me!”

Mila took a deep breath and then, finally, had to laugh.

“You really had me running around the castle all week, you know that? Tomorrow, I should kick you around the training yard for that.”

Carefully, Sara tried for a smile.

“I’m sorry.”

Mila glanced at the envelope in Sara’s hands. In her beautiful looping hand, Mila’s name was written across the front.

“Can I have that?”

“Yes. No. I mean – not right now. You can’t read it with me in the room. There’s a poem.”

“A poem?” Mila exclaimed.

“It was very late! I’d spent time with Michele and Georgi, too... and with a bottle of wine.” Sara cringed. “Actually, you can’t read it. I’m going to write something less embarrassing.”

“Oh no, I want this one!”

Mila charged forward at her friend and Sara turned her back to her, holding the envelope out of Mila’s reach. They were both laughing as they grappled for the letter, with Sara doing her very best to keep it either as close to her as possible or as far away as she could hold it. Finally, Mila nefariously kicked out the leg from under Sara and they toppled onto a divan. She made another grasp for the letter, but then found herself considering the fact that she was lying chest-to-chest with Sara, one leg between hers, and suddenly, that was a lot more interesting. Sara, too, was staring up at her, laugh fading into a smile.

“I bet you I could distract you enough right now that you’ll forget all about the letter,” Mila said, peering up at her slender fingers holding the envelope.

“I never take a bet I’m going to lose,” Sara answered and slid her hand into Mila’s hair, pulling her down.

Mila fished the forgotten letter out of the heap of their discarded dresses later that evening, but Sara was too tired to care.


End file.
